(Just for something a bit different….here is a poem I wrote recently…..)
No One Knows Her Name
Dazzling emerald eyes, linger,
a little too long, pleading,
a flicker of expectation.
Eyes that have seen war, torment, rage, relentless revenge,
her mother stoned by veiled sinners casting their fears.
A girl forgotten, shunned but not invisible.
Porcelain skin stripped of emotion,
ravaged bare, raided of decency,
a voice pillaged, forced into humility, solitude and silence.
A maroon sackcloth harshly shadows her beauty,
austere and uninviting, a purposeful deterrent.
She steals away to clandestine meetings in a schoolroom for the brave,
huddled in hushed whisperings of secrecy,
martyrs for knowledge.
Education is power,
the key to escape,
but so elusive.
Fear of being caught, fear of being found out, fear of being seen,
to be discovered would surely mean a beating, torture or death.
Her arms deeply scarred by self-inflicted lines, tangible reminders for every lashing.
She longs for love,
not the rancid stench of arrogance – haughty and unyielding,
the caress of tenderness a foreign notion.
Envious of those Western girls in magazines,
so much colour, frivolity and gaiety,
where tomorrow is not a gift but an expectation.
In her world, it is adverse to be a girl, a misfortune,
covetous to dream,
forbidden to aspire.
She knows what is possible – that is the problem.
For her, opportunity lurks from every shadow,
clutching at the stark, empty corners,
buried beneath the heavy burdens,
but still in forgotten places, too far removed.
The sounds of nightmares – shouts, cries, cursing, screams, terror – her reality.
We avert our gaze, closing our ears, pretending not to know.
No one can touch her soul,
where a small spark of hope and the promise of freedom lingers.
But what is freedom worth,
when you can never really have her?